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" If solid happiness we prize, Within our breast this jewel lies; And they are fools who roam : The world has nothing to bestow ; From our own selves our joys must flow, And that dear hut, our home. "
Beauties of literature, selected from various authors by H. Waylett - 49. oldal
szerző: Beauties - 1791
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

A collection of poems, by several hands [ed. by R. Dodsley].

Collection - 1755 - 378 oldal
...enters here, No intermeddling ftranger near, To fpoil our heart-felt joyi. III. III. If folid happiuefs we prize, Within our breaft this jewel lies; And they...felves our joys muft flow, And that dear hut, our home. rv. Of reft was Noah's dove bereft,. When with impatient wing fhe kft That fafe retreat, the ark; Giving...

A Collection of Poems ...

Robert Dodsley - 1758 - 384 oldal
...No noify neighbour enters here, No intermeddling ftranger near, To fpoil our heart-felt joys. HI. If If folid happinefs we prize, Within our breaft this...has nothing to beftow, From our own felves our joys mufl flow, And that dear hut, our home. IV. Of reft was Noah's dove bereft, When with impatient wing...

A collection of poems, by several hands [ed. by R. Dodsley].

Collection - 1758 - 394 oldal
...employs ; No noify neighbour enters here, No intermeddling flranger near, To fpoil our heart-felt joys. If folid happinefs we prize, Within our breaft this jewel lies ; And they are fools who roanv ; ".'••• The world has nothing to beftow, From our own felves our joys muft flow, And that...

A collection of poems, by several hands [ed. by R. Dodsley]. [2 other copies ...

Collection - 1765 - 418 oldal
...No noify neighbour enters here, No intermeddling ftranger near, To fpoil our heart-felt joys. III. If folid happinefs we prize,' « Within our breaft this jewel lies ; And they are fools who roam j The world has nothing to beftow, From our own felves our joys muft flow, And that dear hut, our home....

A Collection of Poems: In Six Volumes, 4. kötet

1765 - 414 oldal
...No noify neighbour enters here, No intermeddling ftranger near, To fpoil our heart-felt joys. III. If folid happinefs we prize, Within our breaft this jewel lies ; And they are fools who roam I The world has nothing to beftow, From our own felves our joys muft flow, And that dear hut, our home....

A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes, 4. kötet

Robert Dodsley - 1770 - 402 oldal
...No noify neighbour enters here, No intermeddling ftranger near, To fpoil our heart-felt joys. HI. If If folid happi.nefs we prize, Within our breaft this...has 'nothing to beftow, From our own felves our joys muff flow, And that dear hut, our home. IV. • Of reft was Noah's dove bereft, When with impatient...

Hymns for Public Worship

1772 - 222 oldal
...heav'n for you. HYMN CXXIX. Proper Tune. Contentment. I. IF folid happinefs we prize, Within our breafts this jewel lies, And they are fools who roam : The world has nothing to beftow ; From our own-felves our joys muft flcJw, And peace begins at .home. "We'll therefore relifh, with content, "Whate'er...

The Oxford Magazine: Or, Universal Museum, 8-9. kötet

1772 - 552 oldal
...rtrangcr near To fpoil our heart-felt Joy. îf folid happinefs we prize, Within our breaft the ftruggle lies, And they are fools who roam : The World has nothing to bellow, From our own felves the joys mvft flow, And that dear hut, our home. Of reft wïs Noah's dove...

'Squire Randal's excursion round London: or, A week's frolic in 1776, with ...

Randal (squire.) - 1777 - 168 oldal
...truth of thefe delightful fire-fide images : " If folid happinefs we prize, Within our brer/1 that jewel lies, „» And they are fools who roam ; The...our joys muft flow, And that dear hut, OUR HOME." I am, my dear friends, Your affecYionate ROBERT RANDAL. TS The paper of tin's morning lies befora me,...

The Arminian Magazine: Consisting of Extracts and Original ..., 10. kötet

John Wesley - 1787 - 726 oldal
...employs; NO noify neighbours enter here ; No intermeddling flranger near To fpoil our heart-felt joys. If folid happinefs we prize, Within our breaft this...they are fools who roam : The world has nothing to beflow, From our own felves our joys muft flow. And that dear hut, our home. Of reft was Noah's dove...




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